Natural Instinct
by Sincerely Yours- C.M.D
Summary: *Drabble* They were infected by their insectoid alt-modes, but that didn't make Bombshell want Shrapnel any less... or despise the fact that he was ignored. Mentions of Mech/Mech slash; jealousy, mild language and some scheming


**C.M.D: I'd been meaning for a way to include more Decepticons in my slash fics, and surprisingly, I landed on the idea of doing something for the Insecticons. This was the drabble that followed.  
>Originally posted on here.<br>**

There were many things that Bombshell would say did not anger him. Call it vanity if you will, but he did believe that he could brush off the slightest annoyances easily; getting to the heart of a matter -usually literally- and invoking some sort of amusement, if not triumph, from the situation. And while he was boasting about being nonchalant as well, let him also take this moment to note that he was not upset about being classed as some weak, inferior sub-group within the whole of the Decepticon army. No, in fact he utterly loathed such a classification and was even more furious with Megatron for it -though he'd never be so foolish to share that secret with anyone, especially his so called "teammates".

He'd surrender his entire processor to Soundwave before that happened.

But, keeping to the point at hand, indeed the quiet insecticon kept to a self-spoken lie that many things did not anger him.

Yet this most certainly did.

Red visor flashing, Bombshell watched as Shrapnel slowly approached Kickback; lip components pulled into a coy smile and servos sliding sensually along white wings. Another time it would have been amusing, to see the grasshopper pause in his munching, turning to look up at their leader in puzzlement before shrugging again and returning to the tree branch he'd currently been chewing on.

Shrapnel's smile dropped an inch, but all the same, he pressed closer, his servos slipping further down the other's frame and winding around Kickback's waist. He didn't need to shift angle to know that the stag beetle's fingers were rubbing soothing circles in their stupid comrade's stomach plating, before they would dip lower, almost picking at Kickback's codpiece in want.

Bombshell would have snarled in disgust if he'd had the care to do so.

He would never understand what their dear leader saw in the daft mech, or why Shrapnel wasted so much time trying to coerce the oblivious grasshopper into being his mate. The rhinoceros beetle especially did not comprehend why he was ignored in favour of Kickback.

Fury, raw and unhindered, flowed up through him and for a moment, Bombshell's servos clenched at his sides. Logic dictated to him that he should not feel this way -he was, after all, better, stronger and obviously, smarter than his comrades. But his blasted programming, poisoned by his insectoid mode, had long since demanded that he find a mate... and right now, it was telling him that only Shrapnel would do, and that he was the only one worthy for the stag beetle in return.

Still, Shrapnel persisted on trying to sway Kickback into wanting him back.

Unable to watch his foolish leader continue his attempts to persuade the happily feasting insecticon into another interface, Bombshell rose from his seat of swamp moss and hurried around the other side of the tree. The more distance he put between himself and his comrades right now, the better, otherwise he'd do something drastic.

He just knew it.

Unfortunately, his retreat was not quick enough if the following moan said anything, informing Bombshell that Kickback had finally relented to Shrapnel's pestering. The rhinoceros beetle stalled to a stop, a hiss escaping him. His thoughts darkened and the urge to exact revenge on the two other mechs grew within him.

A stray servo rose to his helm, brushing along the cannon on top. It would be an ingenious idea, the insecticon thought, a cruel smirk spreading beneath his mouth guard. To use the cerebro-shells on his comrades. He could make that idiot Kickback jump off a cliff and fall to his demise, or maybe have him jump beneath a bulldozer... Perhaps he'd even just command the grasshopper to lie still as he ripped back his plating and tore away at all of his inner circuitry like some macabre sort of mad surgeon. Bombshell would have to ponder further on which method would please him most.

And afterwards...

The rhinoceros beetle could not suppress his shiver. Afterwards, he'd have complete control of Shrapnel. Humiliation would come first, to punish his leader, but then he'd use the other beetle just as he'd always simulated. Whether it was his lip components stretched wide across his spike as he was sucked off, or the insecticon on his servos and knee joints- aft propped high in the air and valve slick and waiting to accept Bombshell- Shrapnel would be his, the silent mech knew.

He'd make sure of it.


End file.
